We all want things. As humans we will always want.
I have a friend named Jorge who wants something. He wants electricity, or better yet, a new place to live.
Sometime two weeks ago, Jorge’s room mate, who is in charge of paying the bills, uprooted and moved out of the shared apartment. Not only did all of Jorge’s room mate’s clothing, furniture, and his general bodily presence disappear, but so did the electricity. When Zach and I arrived at Jorge’s apartment on Friday night to begin a period of voluntary inebriation we found ourselves thrust into a universe running parallel to our own, one without electricity.
In the dark, we gingerly picked our way around the numerous Uhaul boxes littering the living room floor. Jorge was seated in a corner of the room in one of five dining chairs encircling a dining table that was not there. A Maglite stood on the counter its beam aimed at the ceiling above it. Next to the Maglite a lone candle flickered silently like a candle in a house with no electricity would.
“Five days. Fiiive days. No power.” Jorge raved. “No hot showers. No heat or air conditioning. Nothing for five days.”
Jorge went on to tell us how he lost his mind on the first night, because he had to sit in the dark with nothing to do, but by the third and fourth nights he began to find it quite relaxing to come home to the darkness, away from work and the world. It was something of a sanctuary in which he could spend time reflecting on his life or he could peacefully sit and read a book by the tongue of flame licking the dark atmosphere of his apartment. We were even bold enough to start a group discussion regarding voluntarily living without electricity for a given period of time, say a week, just to see what it would be like. For me the whole concept was a trip down memory lane to times when the wintry wonderland of West Virginia would come crashing down on the power lines of the Spencer community, halting modern life as we knew it. Evenings were spent around the dinner table playing cards our shadows cast by our hurricane lamp centerpiece. As our modern commodities faded around us we were brought together as a family on the Bolte farm in those harsh times simply enjoying each other’s company, just as Zach, Jorge, and I were.
Trading off electricity to better enjoy the company of those around you?
A blessing in disguise?
Continuing, Jorge isn’t the only person that wants something. I want something too. I want to feel good about riding again. Since my participation in the Tour de Fort on October 22nd and the completion of 180 miles of nonstop road “fun” I have not had the desire to get on one of my aluminum ponies and do what I do best. I now find myself slightly into December and still have not touched a bike. This is a disturbing lapse of time that leads me to honestly feel like a poser within my precious cycling community. Even with this knowledge I still found it impossible to overcome my guilt and just get riding. What was wrong with me? In November I had my four impacted wisdom teeth surgically removed from mouth. For six days after the surgery I was essentially bedridden and was involuntarily prohibited from physical activity. It was in this painful and depressive state that I suddenly found myself wishing I was outside enjoying the weather on one of my multiple cycling contraptions.
Was this my humbling blessing in disguise?
By the end of the weekend Jorge found a roof to sleep under and promptly moved in and began enjoying his return to the world of power. I even helped him move a piece of furniture to his new residence and afterwards we went out for dinner in a restaurant lit by electricity. As we talked about life, relationships, and the future I began to realize something. Whatever capacity you are enjoying the company of friends in, whether it is by candle light or electric light, friends are more important than electricity or anything else will ever be.
As for me, other than having corny revelations about the world around me, I also got what I wanted. My friend Drew invited me out to the FATS for a trail ride on Sunday. Now I had to ride whether I felt like it or not. Would my inner feelings change or would I still feel burnt out?
On December 3rd my six week riding slump ended. As the cold rain sprinkled down on my windshield as I left Fort Gordon on that Sunday morning I was unusually impassive toward the occurrence. On a normal day I would silently, or vocally, curse the sky for trying to ruin my forthcoming ride in the forest. Instead, I found myself looking into my rearview mirror at the dark green frame of my single speed that was latched to my tailgate. Yes, he knew what was coming and was just as excited as I suddenly found myself to be.
As Drew, Jason, and I pedaled through the rolling woodland terrain of FATS our tires crunched the remnants of the blazed autumn leaves, serenading the return to nature. As the tempo of the crinkling and mashing symphony increased so did the happiness. A smile spread across my face that would not fade for many hours afterward. I thought of this as I rode.
A question was once posed to a group of WVMBA riders by an IMBA representative at an event that I cannot recall. The question was, what has mountain biking done for you? At least two individuals stated that mountain biking had saved their lives. Riding rescued one man from the bowels of obesity while the other was turned away from a dark period of his life and turned on to a reason to live a better life. The IMBA man was shocked. He had never heard such a serious response.
Mountain biking did not save my life. Mountain biking and cycling are my life. It brings me an inner happiness that nothing else can. I’m here to ride.
So, if you feel like you are in a slump or don’t have the desire to ride, but know you should be, grab a friend, saddle up, and get riding.
Finally, there is yet another person that wants something from this cruel heartless world. Drew Jordan wants a sticker that says “I (heart) blogging”, and I hope he gets it, because I want that shit too.
No comments:
Post a Comment